


just breathe

by montyysoy



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Cancer, Character Death, Christmas, Denial of Feelings, Emotional Baggage, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay Panic, Guilt, Holidays, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Internal Conflict, M/M, Mild Language, New Years, Pain, Panic Attacks, Platonic Cuddling, Realization, Roommates, Slow Burn, Survivor Guilt, Terminal Illnesses, Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-26 09:48:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30104094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/montyysoy/pseuds/montyysoy
Summary: When George Davidson is diagnosed with terminal lung cancer 6 months prior to his 24th birthday, his two best friends take a chance to fulfil his dreams before it's too late. They work through tough feelings and unfortunate events as a trio, whilst coping with the looming realization that their time together is limited.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 28





	1. sea blue globes

**Author's Note:**

> aaaa it timed out the first time i was writing the description but hopefully i worded it fine.  
> this is my first time publishing on ao3 and i have plans for this fic((:  
> my twitter is @montyysoy - i'll post updates on there!

May 1st, 2020 was the day that George Davidson was diagnosed with Stage IV Lung Cancer, exactly six months before his twenty-fourth birthday. Two months after his initial diagnosis, it was announced to be terminal. Chemotherapy and immunotherapy weren’t helping at all. They were just chucking money away, hoping for a miracle. The PET scans showed no shrinking of the tumours that plagued his lungs. They were simply growing bigger as the months advanced, as summer turned into autumn, as the leaves fell and settled on their demise.

He hadn’t been feeling his usual self a few months before he was diagnosed. The constant drowsiness and shortness of breath had become so severe that his best friends were practically dragging him to the hospital to get checked. He could barely console himself, let alone his two friends when he had to break the news to them. The light at the end of the tunnel had disappeared, for all he knew. It was being engulfed in a sorrow darkness as seconds ticked by, until it was nothing but a small speck in the distance. All the hopes and dreams he’d had for the future were snatched from him.  
Everybody says to live your life as if it were your last day, but what do you do when that becomes your reality?

|-|

“Close your eyes, George!” Sapnap calls out, his voice echoing throughout the hallway, laced with excitement. 

“Why can’t I just walk in? I’m gonna see it anyway!”

“Just do it, idiot.” He says, his voice a little louder than before to make up for the extra distance he’s made whilst walking closer into the living room. Dream's hands sat comfortably in his hoodie pockets as he lingers a short distance behind George, only taking them out to rest them lightly on his waist, guiding him out of the room so as to not allow him to get a concussion on his birthday. It’d be rather unfortunate.

George’s vision shifts from sooty black to crimson red as he enters the kitchen, eyes still pinched closed. Dream tugs lightly on his loosely-fitted t-shirt after he nearly walks straight into the counter. 

“Can I open them now?”

“Go on.” He says, his voice holding a soft tone.

George opens his eyes, his attention quickly snapping to a rectangular-shaped cake sitting on the counter. Pale buttercream is slathered unevenly on it, thin writing that reads, ‘Happy 24th’ on the top, yet somehow off-centre. It was a complete mess, but it was beautiful at the same time, in a way that showed just how quickly they’d put it together.

“See, when Sapnap says that he bought the cake already,” Dream says, using air quotations on the second half of his sentence, “he actually means that he bought a cake mix, and not a pre-made cake, so we had to put this together in killer time.” 

His hand reaches for the back of his neck, a boyish smile plastered on his face. George smiles at the two of them, clearing his throat and putting his hands on the countertop.

“It’s beautifully ugly.” He says after a moment of hesitation, which results in a disgruntled groan from Sapnap.

“I’m kidding, for the most part. I was pretty concerned when you two forced me to stay in my bedroom for like, an hour and a half but this is a pretty decent reward, I’d say.”

“It better be. At least it’s not burnt, like that god-awful concoction you made a while ago. Or you remember that time you burnt a sausage and proceed to eat it anyway despite the fact that it was practically charcoal? Gross, I tell you. You’re not a good cook. At all.”

“In my defence, it just looked bad. It tasted perfectly fine.”

Their conversation is interjected by Dream, who had made his way over to the couch situated in the middle of the living room. A short coffee table lay in front of it, a TV attached to the wall behind it. 

“Hey, hey guys. We still need to open your presents.”

“My what?”

“Last time I checked you weren’t deaf, George. You have presents. It’s your birthday.” Sapnap says, sarcasm etched into his sentences.

“Sorry, I just figured since the whole oh-no-terminal-cancer scenario is going on you’d probably refrain from it.”

“We’re not sad bastards, sit down. Besides, terminal cancer just makes us want to get you them more.”

“Alright, alright.” George says, sitting down on the sofa, between Dream and Sapnap. He feels a jab of guilt when Sapnap mentions it so directly, even though it was a big factor. For all he knew, this could be last time he got to experience a birthday. He didn’t want to be responsible for causing his friends pain, even inevitable pain. 

Dream passes him a box wrapped in blue, christmas trees scattered sparingly over it. A small tag is attached to the ribbon that encases it. On it is small writing, scrawled messily.  
_To George, From Dream and Sapnap._

“Why is this christmas wrapping paper? There’s like, a month until christmas.”

“Didn’t feel like finding birthday wrapping paper. Take it or leave it.” Sapnap says bluntly.

He doesn’t question it further.

He unties the ribbon, then rips off the wrapping paper, opening the box with urgency. He pauses when he sees the reflection of glass staring back at him. Reaching in the box, he pulls out a small globe. It’s a deep blue, countries and continents tinted a lighter blue, almost appearing white. The rim that holds the globe in place is white, but the edges are cased with gold. It fits perfectly in his palm; not too small, but not massive either. 

“It’s beautiful, thank you so much.” He says, his sentences etched with genuinity. 

“Oh, there’s something that goes along with that too.” Sapnap says, reaching forward to grab a small envelope, passing it to George. He flips it around to see his name written neatly on the back, much different from the previous bout of writing he’d seen addressing his gifts. He tears the wide V open, pulling out the contents. It’s plane tickets. 

“We know you said you wanted to travel the world way before your whole diagnosis. If you’re still up for that, those are the tickets to go to the UK so we can visit your family for christmas. After that we’re headed to Paris. From there, we’ll let you decide.”

“Oh my god.” George says in disbelief, his words rushed, “Oh my god. Yes. Yes, I want to travel the world. Holy fuck. Oh my- holy- what the fuck.”

He reads the small, boxed writing on the ticket. Their flight was scheduled to leave on 18th December, precisely a month and seventeen days from now. Dream leans in, hugging him and narrowly avoiding the tube of his cannula. Sapnap stretches across the sofa to join in, barely managing to wrap his arms around the two of them.

They were going to travel the world.

|-|

“Hurry up, the taxi is leaving in two minutes and we’re leaving you here if you don’t get in in time!” Dream calls down the hallway to George, who was busy stuffing his luggage into the suitcase with urgency. He had left everything to the last minute, so now he was pacing around his room, grabbing things he thinks he’d need without actually paying attention.

“Do I bring the globe or not?” He shouts back, straining his voice to reach the front door, where Dream was leaning against the door, hands in his back pockets and a careless expression plastered on his face. 

“I don’t care, just speed up!”

George grabs the globe, wrapping a thick jumper around it before squeezing it into the suitcase, zipping it up and rushing to the door, dragging it behind him alongside his oxygen tank. Clay smiles at him as he picks it up, giving it to the driver who places it in the trunk alongside the other two suitcases and shuts it, shaking the taxi ever so slightly.

“God, you really need to have an ounce of time management. You really had to pack it at the – quite literal – very last minute?”

“I couldn’t figure out what to pack, it’s not my fault.”

Sapnap chimes in, leaning back. He’s sat in the front seat, parallel to the driver who was now starting up the taxi, the light vibrations reverberating throughout the taxi.

“George, it’s just clothes. Or some random shit you bring. You’re not meant to lug around your entire life in a suitcase for like, a ten-day trip.”

“Be quiet. It’s not like I’ve gone on trips before. The only time I’ve travelled abroad was to come here and I had to pack my entire life, thank you very much.”

“Excuses, excuses.” Sapnap says, sarcasm prominent in his voice, “Even Dream could pack a suitcase quicker than you, and we all know he never leaves the house. Like, ever.”

“Oh, fuck off.” He says, pausing for a second between his sentences. “I can pack mine quicker than George though, you’re not wrong. He packs all the wrong stuff. I haven’t even seen what he’s packed.”

George sighs, rolling his eyes dramatically and sitting back in the car seat, the oxygen tank attached by a plastic tube to his cannula, which was leaning against the car door in the foot space.

“I’m not a kid, you don’t need to look through my stuff.” He says, his voice flooding with irritation.

They don’t say anything else when the taxi starts driving away, the house gradually shrinking the farther away they get, until they turn a corner and it’s out of view. Dream turns back around, his attention only having been through the rear windshield. He throws his left arm around George, who groans in annoyance, biting his lip briefly.

“Dream.” He says through clenched teeth.

“Mhm?”

“Get your arm off me.”

“Now, why would I do that?” He says, a chuckle evident in his tone. A smirk is etched onto his face, faintly reaching up to his eyes. George looks over at him, grabbing the hand that hangs loosely over his left shoulder and practically chucking it back over to Dream.

“George is so mean, Sapnap. He just doesn’t love me, it’s fine.” He says, pouting.

“We should chuck him away, we can go to England on our own!” Sapnap says, his head twisting round to look at Dream, who nods in agreement. George’s hand flies toward Sapnap, who pulls back harshly right before his hand makes contact. 

“Hey!”

“It wasn’t even a harsh slap, I wasn’t gonna hurt you on purpose. I’m not that mean.”

“Aww.” Sapnap says, sitting back against his car seat, “George loves me, look at that. Definitely a first, though.”

“Never said that.” He says, “We’ve been driving for five minutes, how the hell am I gonna survive a ten-hour flight?”

“You’ll just have to put up with us, it’s not that awful. We’re likeable people.”

“That’s pushing it a bit too far. You’re barely tolerable.”

“You know you love us.”

“Oh my god.”

Only short conversations were held whilst they navigated to the airport. George had fallen asleep twenty minutes into the drive, even though it was only an hour to the nearest one, leaving Sapnap and Dream to haul out his luggage and wake him up when they arrived at their destination. Dream had urged Sapnap to wake George up in a reasonable way, though it ended up with Sapnap spraying George with water, much against his preference.

“You- What the fuck?” George says, grasping at thin air, blinking rapidly to adjust to both the sudden onslaught of water and brightness.

“Not my idea.” Dream says, arms crossed, both his and George’s suitcases resting on the uneven concrete of the parking lot. The tall streetlights scattered around were starting to switch on, a few flickering with a saturated orange glow, illuminating barely-filled potholes that were scarcely splayed throughout the parking lot.

“Totally my idea. It worked!” Sapnap says, voice full with enthusiasm.

“Of course it fucking worked, it’s water.”

“My pleasure. Pretty entertaining way to wake you up, too.”

George, now grumpier than he was originally, grabs his oxygen tank, stepping out of the taxi and trailing it behind him. He reaches up to his face, adjusting his cannula which had shifted from the frantic movement a few moments earlier.

They make their way into the airport, a fairly hefty distance away from where they parked. The white lights that hang above shine directly into George’s eyes, causing him to squint and slow his pace for a second. A breeze welcomes them, the only recognisable smells wafting from 24hr fast food restaurants that populate the perimeter, their menu selection screens reflecting vividly off the floor in ranged colours.  
Sapnap walks in front as they enter through different gates, until eventually they reach their boarding area. No seats are free, so they instead resort to sitting down on the floor, their suitcases lying beside them.  
An automated voice calls out for their gate, prompting them to stand up. George grabs onto a now-empty chair, pushing himself up with struggle, having denied Dream's help. 

“You ready? It’ll be a long flight.”

“Yeah.”

“Have you got everything you need? Check that your oxygen tank is fi-“

“It’s good, don’t worry. You don’t need to stress so much, I’m sure they have oxygen on the airplanes anyway. Safety shit, right?”

Dream makes a noise, not easily describable, but sounding pretty similar to Sapnap's generic disgruntled groan. He enters the boarding gate first, closely followed by George, then Dream trailing behind.  
George rubs his eyes with a free hand to adjust to the lighting change, now slightly dimmer but still pretty bright compared to the taxi earlier. Sapnap stops at their seats – three in a row, in the centre of the plane. He grabs George’s suitcase, lifting it up onto the area above their seats, then placing his in the same compartment. Dream follows suit after the other two have sat down, George’s oxygen tank resting in the tight leg space they’d been given.


	2. lovely and sunny

George awakes to a finger prodding urgently at his arm, a dull pain already present. He looks up, meeting Sapnap's glance. He’s leaning over, the seatbelt that lays tight over his waist restricting his area of movement. He pulls back when he notices George’s glare, leaning back in his seat.

“Wake up, dumbass. We’re here in lovely, sunny England.” He says, glancing out the window. His expression changes to a grimace before he continues his sentence, “Rainy England, then. Close enough for me.”

George leans forward to look out the windows located on either side of the plane. Clouds drift above, their substantial mass casting shadows below onto the soaked concrete of the airport runway, scattered with puddles. Raindrops settled on the glass, dripping down out of sight as the familiar voice crackles to life.

_Now landing at Heathrow Airport. Prepare to leave the plane via the exits indicated by the flashing lights overhead the isles._

“I’ll grab your bags.” Dream says. His voice is drowsy, and when George turns to look at him, he can see dark circles resting below his eyes. They look bloodshot.

“I can handle it on my own, don’t worry.” George says, standing up after Sapnap and, once he’d moved his oxygen tank to his side, stands on his tiptoes, loosely grabbing the suitcase handle. It drops down and he stumbles back, nearly bumping into a middle-aged lady who sits in the seat behind. She mutters something under her breath. He turns away from her, instead making his way off the plane through the boarding tunnel. Sapnap stays behind, unloading his baggage and letting people get off before him. George sees him helping the lady up before he averts his attention to Dream.

“Do you wanna stop at one of these places before we head off to your family?” Dream says, stopping and gesturing to the surrounding restaurants that looked the same as the ones back in Florida.

“We can. Can you text Sapnap then? I don’t know where my phone is. Probably in my suitcase or something, probably.”

“Yeah, I was planning to. Where’d you wanna go?” 

George looks around, surveying the variety of restaurants before settling on a Subway, nestled in the far end of the building, slightly hidden by the crowds. He points to it, Dream nodding and walking in its direction. George follows him closely so as to not get pushed back by the hordes of people that surround him. 

They settle down on an empty table. George sits down, leaning back against the stiff, wooden chair whilst Dream dragged over an extra one, a loud scraping noise coming from it. He sits down, pulling his phone out of his pocket, clicking it on and typing in the passcode, texting Sapnap to notify him of their whereabouts.

“Do you want me to order yours or are you good on your own?” Dream says, sitting upright in the chair, his right arm slung around the back. George flicks his attention between Dream and the employees behind the counter, warm fluorescent lights illuminating the wide variety of food. 

“I’ll do it, don’t worry. Do you want me to order yours and Sapnap's?”

“Go ahead. I’ll wait for him to get here; he’s taking a while.”

George nods, turning away and leading his oxygen tank behind him, settling into the short queue. He corresponds with the worker assembling his, Dream's and Sapnap's order, gradually making his way toward the end, then takes the three, now-wrapped subs and placing them on the table. Dream sits up, taking his immediately, unwrapping it. George pulls out the chair, the familiar squeaking noise sounding out through the small area. He sits down, reaching out for his sandwich and grabbing it with a vice grip, eagerly ripping off the paper covering it, similarly to Dream. 

“Oh, Sapnap.” Dream says, twisting his head to the direction they originally entered in, his voice muffled, filled with food.

“Hey. That’s mine, right?” Sapnap says, sitting down on the empty chair, allowing his suitcase to flop down onto the marbled floors, glossy with water.

“Yeah. George got it. What’d you order for him, anyway?” Dream asks, his voice now clearer, but still evidently tired.

“The meatball one or something. Figured you’d like it.” 

“Oh, that one's good. Thanks.”

“No problem.” George says, turning his attention back to the food, savouring the mix of different spices as steam rose up into the air, dissipating. It was way better than the shitty airplane food for sure; at least this had flavour and wasn’t _that_ expensive, in terms of airport pricings.

|-|

An hour had passed since they settled down inside the Subway. Now, instead of fresh subs, trash lay on the table, red sauce soaking into the paper packaging, tissues dyed orange chucked messily in the centre.  
“We should probably get going,” George says, reaching his hand out, empty. Sapnap's eyebrows furrow as he makes eye contact with George, an expectant expression on his face, “Pass me your phone.”

“Why?” 

“I need to check the time.”

“It’s half ten.” Dream says, interrupting, “Sapnap hasn’t set his phone to the right time zone yet.”

“Bold of you to assume I haven’t.”

“Am I right though?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“There you go, I knew it. He was watching movies like, the entire time. Didn’t do anything else.” Dream says, glancing over to George occasionally.

“They were free to watch, why wouldn’t I?”

George leans back in his chair, just listening to the conversation.

“You could have slept or something.”

“You didn’t.”

“I never said I did, I’m saying that you _could_ have slept.”

Sapnap sighs, rolling his eyes, then grabs his bags and stands up abruptly. Dream and George follow suit.

“Oh, I called my mum to pick us up.” George says.

“When? I thought you didn’t know where your phone was.” Dream says, turning his head toward George.

“I mean I’d called her beforehand, before we boarded in Florida. She should be here any moment now, I told her to be here around 11ish but she normally comes way earlier.”

And, almost exactly on time, a familiar crimson sedan floods into their view, stopping abruptly in the uneven parking space. The driver’s window rolls down on the right, revealing a grinning lady in her 50’s, brunette hair raggedly cut, sunglasses resting on her head.

“Why are you wearing sunglasses?” George says, gesturing to the white skies, “It’s like, 5 degrees out or something.”

“No time for questions, get in! I can’t wait to meet you two properly.” She says bluntly, rolling her window back up. George makes his way to the boot of the car, unlocking it and stuffing his suitcase in it, Sapnap and Dream putting theirs in afterwards, Dream staying behind to shut it.

The door shuts as Dream gets in last. They all slip on their seatbelts, three clicks sounding out. She turns her head round, taking the sunglasses off and resting them on George’s lap, who sits opposite her in the front passenger seat. 

“What’s your name?” She says, looking at Sapnap, who sits back in the seat, already comfortable.

“I’m Sapnap, this is Dream.” He says, nodding over to him. He gives her a warm smile, tiredness evident on his face. 

“Nice to meet you Sapnap and Dream! I’m Sarah.” She says, driving the car out of the parking lot and onto a main road, “So, how’s life been living together? George over here moved out, what, 2 years ago now? Time flies.”

She’s turned her attention back to driving at this point, only the back of her head visible as she angles it to the side, clearing her throat. 

“It’s been good.” Dream says, his words slurred ever so slightly, “We’re excited to meet all of you, see who he grew up with.”

“A bunch of psychos.” George mutters under his breath.

“They’re harmless, really. You’ll like them!” She says, her tone cheerful and upbeat, disregarding George’s comment.

The car takes a few more turns spanning over twenty minutes until it pulls up in front of a large house, one car already in the driveway. She drives in, braking abruptly once aligned with the other car. She opens her door, glancing at the concrete below, worn-out white lines barely evident. 

“Alright, we’re here. You might want to exit on the left, I didn’t leave enough space, your dad would murder me if I scuffed his car. Dramatic, really, I don’t think it’s that big a deal.”

Sapnap steps out first, followed by Dream. They open the boot and grab their luggage, Sapnap picking up George’s. He is the last to get out, oxygen tank trailing behind him as they walk up to the front door. Sarah pulls out keys from her pocket, various trinkets attached, pale and worn out. She pushes the handle down, leading them in and locking it behind her. 

“Damn, you grew up bougie as fuck, George.” Sapnap says, mouth agape as he surveys the open layout of the house. 

“We only moved here when I was like, 18. I barely grew up here.”

“Excuses, excuses. I wanna move in, fuck Florida.”

“Hey!” Dream says, a vague chuckle in his tone, clouded by the obvious drowsiness.

“You boys should probably settle down and unpack your stuff. You’re going to be here for 10 days, right? I think that’s what George told me.”

“Yeah.” Sapnap says, “Do I get my own room?”

“You do, you all have your own rooms I’m pretty sure. The twins are going to be here too.”

Sapnap silently makes a celebratory punch in the air.

“You’re kidding me. Both of them?” George says, butting in.

“Yes, both of them. You should show your appreciation for them, they love you.”

“If loving me means beating me half to death then yes, they love me to the moon and back, I’m sure.”

Sarah sighs, lightly smacking George’s arm.

“Don’t be daft, they barely touch you. They won’t be beating you this time around anyways, regardless of it they wanted to or not.”

“I wonder why.”

She looks at him, a fed-up expression taking over, sighing outwardly before turning back to Dream and Sapnap who stand there, expectantly, luggage in hand.

“Alright, up the stairs to the right. White doors, next to each other. George’s is opposite yours, Sapnap.” She says, gesturing to the stairs secured to the wall, grey carpet cascading over them.

They turn to the stairs, Dream grabbing hold of George’s oxygen tank. Sapnap is in front, and passes George his luggage once they’re at the top. They enter his room first, standing in the doorway as he jumps onto the bed, a light breeze suddenly flowing in their direction. It looks plain, a desk in the corner, double bed against one wall, decorated with black duvet covers. A window is parallel to that, sheer curtains hanging over it.

“What the fuck is that?” Sapnap says, pointing to the radiator attached to the wall, directly under the window.

“It’s a radiator. Heating but better.” George says.

“Victorian shit, I swear.” 

“I’m just gonna go to my room, you enjoy your ‘victorian shit.’”

He turns to leave, Dream disappearing into the hallway and then into his own room. He opens the door to see a similar sight. The rooms looked almost exactly the same as each other, perhaps for simplicity or just a lack of personal motivation. He puts down his luggage and it flops on the floor. 

|-|

“They’re here, come down!” Sarah calls upstairs, straining her voice.

George opens his door, standing in the doorway for a second, clearing his throat.

“What?” He shouts as loud as he can, his voice barely reaching downstairs. The cannula shifts slightly, so he readjusts it, walking out into the hallway and back down the stairs, oxygen tank in hand. He meets the glance of two small teenagers, seemingly around fourteen. They smile at him, but it’s not one of those smiles where you know they mean it. More like a pity smile, only doing it for the sake of not appearing rude. George was all too used to it.

“Hey guys. Long-time no see, huh?”

“We missed you.” Leila says, the taller one out of the two. She had brunette hair that cut off just below her shoulders, freckles scattered over her cheeks. The shorter one, Olivia, had both lighter and longer hair with grey eyes. 

“I did too. What have you guys been up to since I left?” George says. His tone is welcoming but it holds a sense of awkwardness. 

“Leila started swimming classes a few months ago.” Olivia says, speaking up.

“Oh, that’s cool. Did you?”

“No, I didn’t want to.” She says bluntly. 

The silence that lingers in the air is broken by Sarah calling George, who makes his way over to the kitchen in a hurried manner, footsteps echoing out.

“What’s up?”

“I was going to ask if you and your friends wanted to come to the Winter Wonderland with us. Your aunt called up, she says she’s coming over for this year, so we need a spare room or else she’d have to sleep on the sofa and you know I don’t want her to get mad at me.”

“Sure, I guess we can go there. What about her though? She can sleep on the sofa.”

“Can one of your friends sleep with you? She’s petty, George. You know that.”

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea. Do we have infla-“

“It’s not that big a deal, just ask one of them to sleep in the same bedroom as you. And we do have inflatable mattresses but she hates those with a passion. George, you know what she’s like. Do I really have to explain it to you?”

“I would prefer if she slept downstairs and we kept our own rooms is all.”

“She’s coming tomorrow. She didn’t give me much notice, just clear out one of the bedrooms. We’re leaving for the Winter Wonderland at 9pm, is that good?”

“Shouldn’t Leila and Olivia be asleep at 9pm?” He asks, confusion etched in his voice, disregarding her initial sentence.

“No, they’re teenagers. I don’t know what hour they sleep at.”

George turns back, making his way to the stairs and walking up them, out of breath. He knocks on Sapnap's door first.

“George?” Sapnap says. He’s sitting in his chair, now set up. Clothes are sorted into different piles on the floor, cardboard boxes laying everywhere.

“Hey, do you want to sleep in my room? My aunt’s coming round and she needs her own room so we need to leave one for her.”

“No, I like my room. Go ask Dream.” He says.

“I’ll pay you.”

“How much?”

“Fifty-quid.”

“That’s like, seven dollars per day or something. No.”

“Please.”

“No.” He says, “Ask Dream.”

“Sapnap, please. Take the money, you can sleep on an air mattress if you want.”

“I’m staying here, thank you.” He says, chuckling.

“Are you sure?” George says, pleading.

“Yes.”

“Alright, fine. We’re also leaving to go to a Winter Wonderland or something at 9 so be ready.”

“Mkay.”

George shuts the door behind him, hesitantly walking to Dream's room and knocking in the same pattern as he did for Sapnap.

“What’s up?” Dream says, taking an earbud out. He’s just laying on his bed, phone in hand.

“Right, my aunt is coming round unexpectedly and she needs a room. Sapnap already said no and I can’t change his mind so you’re my last resort.”

“Do I get a choice?”

“Not really, no. She’s kinda fussy.”

“Do you have like, a blow-up mattress or something?”

“Uh yeah, they’re in the attic or something. I don’t know, my mum mentioned having them somewhere.”

“I’ll sleep on that then, don’t worry.”

“No fuss?” George says, surprised at the short conversation in contrast to Sapnap and his.

“No, it’s fine, don’t worry. You didn’t know it’d happen.”

“Alright, thank you.” He says, turning to leave, then pausing and turning back round, hand on the doorframe.

“Oh, we’re going out to the Winter Wonderland at 9, if you want to come.”

“I guess I could. Alright, I’ll be ready for 9 then.”

“Sounds pog.” George says, shutting the door once again, déjà vu flooding over him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey!! i'm just easing into christmas, after that i have a whole ass outline to get by((:  
> hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, quick reminder that i'm @montyysoy on twitter for updates on chapters!


	3. scattered showers and festival lights

He pushed himself up, the growing pains that had been getting gradually worse over the past two hours now colonizing every inch of his body. His head pounded, like all his thoughts were suddenly crowding in all at once as his vision blurred into an unsteady mess. He heaved, leaning to the side of the bed, crimson red and translucent phlegm merging together and soaking into the once spotless carpet. His throat was sore from coughing, a rough yet familiar sensation that he’d grown to bear with.

The door opened, muffled footsteps rushing into the room. He felt two hands gripping his shoulders, voices drowned out as though he was underwater. 

Heat spread through his face like wildfire, settling in comfortably with everything else. One by one, the noises came back, clearer, until the only sound he could hear was his own pounding heartbeat and voices, hushed yet screaming at the same time. He knew that they were there, but they felt miles away, just out of reach. Like his fingertips could only brush them before they ran away once again.

“George? I’m here, I’m here.” Sarah said, rubbing his back. She’d heard coughing from upstairs descend into an almost gagging type sound and had assumed the worst immediately, despite not having experienced this happening before. He’d been diagnosed after he moved away, despite the costly fees that came along with it.

Dream and Sapnap stood in the entrance of the room, watching in silence. This was a common occurrence, George coughing up blood and phlegm, but it hadn’t been as direct as this before. He’d usually just cough it up and it’d be over with, whereas this time it was more violent, more nerve-racking. Dream gulped, whispering unintelligibly over to Sapnap, who suddenly took on a pained expression, batting his attention away from George and back to Drean. George tore his glance away from them.

“Are you okay?” Sarah asked, making eye contact with him. He nodded weakly, looking away and instead wiping his mouth with a tissue she’d passed him.

“Don’t worry, it happens all the time.” George says, not looking in the direction of the doorway. He knew his friends would disagree and say that it wasn’t this severe when it happened. He didn’t want to hurt them more than they would be anyway. 

“Alright sweetie, you just rest for a bit, okay? Do you need anything?” She asks, her voice still heavily masked with concern.

“Just water.” He replies, his voice husky.

Sarah disappears out of the room, returning a few minutes later with a glass of cold water, which she puts on the windowsill.

“Do you still want to go to the Winter Wonderland with us tonight? I don’t want you to push yourself.” 

“I’m fine, don’t worry. We can still go.”

She smiles warmly at him, then slips past Dream and Sapnap whilst exiting the room. They talk to each other in hushed voices, quiet enough for George not to hear. After a few minutes they walk over, embracing him, a sense of awkwardness lingering until after they leave the room too. George thought it was rude. He thought it was rude to speak about someone if they’re in the same room, observing the pained facial expressions and pitiful words that dissipated into empty ears. 

He wasn’t dead yet. 

They had plenty of time to do that when he was nothing but a pile of ashes, when he didn’t have to _watch_ people grieving him.

He sits up, readjusting his cannula. His muscles ached more than they previously did, more than he was used to. He couldn’t ignore it, but it was okay. It was okay because the people he loved couldn’t see how things were slowly getting worse, even if they seemed miniscule on the outside. That’s the thing about cancer – you can’t see the pain when it simply becomes a part of your routine to familiarise with it. You wake up and welcome it as though it were family, a source of comfort to seek.

You embrace it although you know it’ll end up killing you. 

The mattress that had been moved into the room an hour prior rested against the wall, the symmetrical indents decorated with intricate patterns. George stands up, straightening the sheets he’d left messy, the mildly traumatic events etched into the threads. He glances at the stained carpet once again. 

The cancer had become both him and his surroundings. People obliged themselves to treat him as though he were but a shell of a human – never once, after he was diagnosed, did people act without pity, even in the simplest actions. It was draining.

He hears a knock on the door. Once, twice, three times.

“George? Can I come in?” 

“Sure.”

Dream walks in, duvet in hand, a few pillows on the edge of falling down. He puts them on the floor, grabbing the air mattress and flopping it on the floor, picking up the duvet and pillows once again, dumping them back on top. He makes brief eye contact with George, before leaving the room once again.

He enters 2 minutes later with more things. Blankets, nightlights, a variety of British snacks he’d bought at the airport without Sapnap or George noticing. He places the snacks on the side of the mattress, the nightlight on the same desk that George’s water sits on, and the blankets spread messily on top of the duvet.

“Is that everything?” George asks, glancing over.

“Yeah, pretty much.” 

“Alright. What time is it, by the way? I haven’t really been focusing.”

“Oh, no worries.” Dream replies, pausing to pull out a phone from his jean pockets, “5pm. It’s been 6 hours since your mum picked us up from the airport.”

“Thanks. Is that what you’re wearing there?” He questions, gesturing at his outfit.

“Yeah, I’ll just slip on a coat or something since it’s been raining.”

“Must be freezing for us. As in, it doesn’t usually get this cold in Florida unless it’s a storm or some crap.”

“Mhm. I don’t know how long I’ll last but we’ll see, not even gonna be here long enough to get used to the temperatures.” He chuckles genuinely, attention focused on George, “Maybe Paris, though.”

“I mean, I used to be in shorts at this temperature but now it seems freezing. Kinda hate Florida for making me sensitive to colder temperatures.”

“It’s not all bad, at least you can tolerate hotter weather. That’s gotta be good, right?”

“If I’m not hyperventilating already.” George says, laughing.

“Got me there.” Dream chuckles, breaking eye contact to make the bed – or rather, mattress.

“I probably won’t be able to go on the rides at the Winter Wonderland anyways. Restrictions or something.”

“Yeah. There are plenty of games on the ground, anyway. We can play those if you’d like.”

“Sounds like fun.” George says, and the room goes silent, a sombre feeling lingering in the air. The only sound that he could hear was Dream adjusting the sheets, and the gentle collision of raindrops on concrete outside.

|-|

“Alright, here’s the plan.” Sarah states, “Dream, George and Sapnap, you go on the first trip. I’ll drive you there and drop you off, and then I’ll pick up Leila and Olivia on the second trip. Does that sound good?”

“I mean, it’s the plan. Sounds alright.” George says, leaning carelessely into the sofa, Sapnap sitting beside him.

“Oh, Dream.” She says, turning to him, “Have you fully cleared out your room yet? Since she’s coming tomorrow and all.”

“Yeah, I moved everything into George’s room a little while ago.”

“Okay, good.”

Sarah pauses, her eyes darting in different directions as though she were counting imaginary things, then speaks again.

“Are we all ready to go then?”

A collective murmur of ‘yes’ results from her question. The three men stand up and start walking toward the door, George wheeling his oxygen tank behind him as he follows at the back of the group. The two girls, Olivia and Leila, were still sat on the sofa, and had resorted to grabbing the TV remote.

She unlocks the door, holding it open for the small group to walk out. Puddles were scattered throughout the driveway and the roads that stretch into a settled fog, an earthy yet fresh smell hovering in the air as droplets of water fell from above, further staining the light concrete. The car’s lights flash orange, indicating that it’s been unlocked. 

Dream opens the side door, letting Sapnap and George in before him, before sitting down and shutting it only a few moments after Sarah gets in too. The car vibrates with the rev of the engine, reversing out of the driveway and heading in the direction of the event.

It had only been twenty or so minutes until they pulled up into a packed car park, the sky growing darker by the second. Lights illuminate the area with varied colours, reflecting off the dampened concrete.

“Alright, you guys enjoy yourselves and if you need anything just give me a call, yeah?” Sarah says, turning around to look at the trio. Her smile was bright despite the hooded darkness in the car. 

“We’ll be fine, thank you for giving us a lift. I appreciate it!” George says, stepping out of the car briefly after Sapnap. Dream is the last to leave, waving to Sarah as the car disappears back in the direction they came from. They turn and start walking toward the entrance of the festival. 

“Something caught your eye?” Dream says in a playful tone, nudging George, whose eyes are transfixed on the illuminous array of LED lights, despite the fact that he couldn’t see half of the colours they displayed.

“They’re pretty.”

“I’d be surprised if they weren’t, George.” Sapnap says, tuning in.

“Oh, shut up. Let me enjoy the view.”

“Whatever you say.” He says, chuckling to himself in a low tone. The bitter air nips at them, causing George’s nose to take on a vaguely pink tint, cheeks blotched with the same colour. 

Once they’re inside the area, Sapnap halts his step, causing the other two to pause and pay attention to him.

“Okay, what rides can we do and what can’t we do?”

“I can’t do most of them, I can do the ones on the ground, though.”

“Alright, we can work around that.” He says, pointing to a game displaying cans stacked on top of each other, “How’s that?”

“Seems fun.” George replies, smiling briefly.

They walk over, Dream giving the vendor an unspecified number of notes, which he exchanges for several weighted balls. Toys are hanging from the ceiling of the tent and are stacked along the back, various designs among them.

He takes the first shot, knocking one off the top immediately, followed by a second bowl that knocks off the remaining too. Sapnap glares at him with a bewildered expression on his face.

“You fucking what?”

“What?” Dream says, confusion prominent in his voice.

“You did not just knock them all down in two shots.”

“I mean, it looks like it.”

“I’ll knock them down in one. I bet you. I bet you.” He says, excitement raising. He grabs a ball, chucking it toward three cans. He misses all three.

“That’s completely rigged.”

George laughs under his breath, less lively than before but still alert. He forces his hands into his pockets, leaving his oxygen tank standing up, and purses his lips together, exhaling quietly.

“You wanna have a go?” Dream asks, offering George a ball from the pile he made.

“Sure.” 

George grabs the ball, only hitting one can. He shoots again and hits one more, but then misses the third on his last shot. He smiles, unbothered by the lack of success.

“No way you hit down more than me. This game is so rigged. What the hell?”

“Maybe you’re just bad.” Dream says, laughing outwardly at him. Sapnap rolls his eyes, glancing around eagerly for a similar activity that he _wouldn’t_ lose.

“Hey, maybe we should try that one.” He says, pointing to a tent that displays rubber ducks drifting around in a pool.

“I need to get my prize first. I won, remember?” Dream mentions. He turns to the vendor, pointing to a stuffed animal, which is passed to him. 

“Alright, what did you wanna play?”

“Duck game. You can’t lose at it, I swear.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it. You can probably lose anything.”

“George, are you seeing this? So rude.”

He laughs in amusement, hands still tucked comfortably in his pockets. He’d pulled his hood up, which covered a wide portion of his face, or at least made it less visible to onlookers. He follows behind them as they make their way over to the stand. Sapnap passes George one of the fishing rods first and he catches a duck within twenty seconds, due to the unsteady nature of his hands, which were less than accurate, not to mention the chills that swam throughout his body whenever a cold gust of wind came his way.

“Look at that, a winner already. Proud of you.”

George scoffs, “Thanks. Not like it’s the easiest game here or anything. Totally on me.”

“Of course.” Sapnap says.

Dream watched their conversation in silence, a content smirk resting on his face. George looks over, furrowing his eyebrows for a split second before settling his attention back onto Sapnap, who’s reaching eagerly for a duck. He gets it in less time than George did.

The vendor passes them both two rewards. They’re small stuffed animals, a substantial difference in size to the one that Dream possessed.

“Are you going to have a go?” George asks, looking at him.

“I’m good, don’t worry.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

They spend a few more minutes at that one particular stand, winning two more toys each before deciding to go elsewhere. Dream gestures toward a teacup ride that settles in a less popular area, a shorter queue than normal at its entrance. They make their way over and sit in a pale-yellow teacup, George propping his oxygen tank up between his and Sapnap's leg, effectively sandwiching it.

The familiar, extroverted and rehearsed voice of the employee sparks into life over the loudspeakers, simply warning them of anything to be cautious of. George didn’t fit under any of the categories so they assumed it’d be fine. After all, it was just spinning around in a teacup. Nothing particularly dangerous. After a few hours of lurking around the festival, testing out different rides, they’d met up with Sarah again, who was now with Leila and Olivia. They had mutually agreed to head home, due to the fact that the rain was now pouring down heavier than before. 

Much, much heavier.

|-|

“It’s pretty late so you should get some sleep.” Sarah says, glancing at George. Dream and Sapnap had already gone into their rooms a few minutes after arriving back and now it was just George downstairs with the two girls, who weren’t showing any signs of being tired at all.

“Yeah, I was planning to.” George says, turning to make his way up the stairs, “Thank you for telling us about that, by the way. It was fun.”

“No problem sweetie. Figured you’d enjoy it.”

George continues going up the stairs until he reaches the landing, out of breath. He opens his bedroom door, only slightly startled to see Dream there, having momentarily forgotten the situation.

“Oh, sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about.” He says, chuckling softly.

Silence lingers in the air between them as George takes off his coat and everything else minus his t-shirt, switching out the jeans for sweatpants. Dream is already laid on the blow-up mattress, a blue light settling on his facial features as he scrolls through Twitter, occasionally smiling at something.

“Today was fun.” George says, breaking the quietness.

“It was, yeah. Glad we all won something at least.”

“Yeah.” 

They don’t carry the conversation for any longer. Instead, George switches out the lamp, plunging the two into darkness, the only light from Dream's phone settling opaquely on the pale walls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for all the support on this fic so far :D  
> i'm aiming to have one chapter out a week (around 2.5k words) but it might vary a little, we'll see lmao
> 
> how are you guys doing? have a good rest of your week((:  
> also i hope that the people are called vendors because i was too lazy to google it and/or may have forgotten to


End file.
